Living in a World built for Men
by Gre3nleaf
Summary: Each chapter is a scene from a Musketeer episode, only this time it includes Annabelle, Aramis' sister. Loads of fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, and over-protective brothers!
1. Friends and Enemies

**Living in a World built for Men**

 **THIS IS AN OC STORY. IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, PLEASE DON'T HATE, JUST SIMPLY DON'T READ! Thank you :3**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing except Annabelle.**

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 **Note: Please read below or you really won't understand the story!**

 **This fanfiction will be quite different to what I usually write. Each chapter will be a small section/scene from a TM episode (so 30 chapters) but they'll also include Annabelle, my OC. Annabelle is a 13 year old girl, who is Aramis' little sister. She came with him to Paris where he became a musketeer, and they met Athos and Porthos, who count themselves as Annabelle's older brothers as well. They also met Treville who, like he is to Aramis, Athos and Porthos, is more or less a father-figure to Annabelle. Also, as you will see in** _ **this**_ **chapter, they also obviously meet d'Artagnan, who will come to consider himself part of their family in due time. :)**

 **Description of Annabelle: Annabelle has long blonde hair and blue eyes (let's say she takes after her mother in her looks, whereas Aramis takes after his father with his dark brown hair and eyes). Unlike other ladies and/or girls her age, Annabelle doesn't wear dresses, unless it's for a formal occasion. I guess she basically dresses like her brothers, but without the musketeer shoulder-pad, less leather and more… feminism to it! XD She's brave when she has to be, but also shy, and is only really comfortable around people she knows.**

 **(No, this will not be a 'Mary-Sue', whatever that really is. The boys are very protective of their sister, as any big brother is, but they don't baby her… too much ;D I also hate romance, so there's no 'OC falling in love with the main character and them living happily ever after etc etc'… plus, she is only 13 ;))**

 **Well, thank you for reading this far c; I have no idea how this will turn out, but let's give it a go!**

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Annabelle smiled as she patted her horse's neck, giggling when the strong animal whinnied and lowered his neck to blow in her hair. "You're a good boy," she told him.

It was another normal day in the Garrison. She was in the stables with her white stallion, Beau, Cadets were training outside, Captain Treville was somewhere in his office, Porthos was at the tavern, Athos was probably also at the tavern, trying to make sure Porthos didn't get into trouble there by fighting again (which he usually did), and Aramis… Aramis was most likely in a bed somewhere sleeping with a woman.

Annabelle sighed and leaned against her horse. Aramis had woken early that morning and left her a note, telling her that he was off to do 'important business', and she was to go to Treville's as soon as she woke up, not trusting the people of Paris to not break into their room and kidnap her while he was gone. He had also added an 'I'll be back soon. Love, Aramis," at the end of the note, but she really didn't expect him to be 'back soon'.

Athos, Porthos, Treville and Annabelle all knew who Aramis was seeing… Adele, the Cardinal's lover. They always worried that he'd get found out one day, and the Cardinal would do something… not exactly _nice_ to him, but Aramis honestly didn't seem to care. But they got used to it, seeing as that was just who Aramis was. The hopeless romantic.

"What is it Annabelle?" asked a familiar voice, and Annabelle looked up to see Treville standing there, a fond smile on his face.

"Nothing, just thinking," she said before walking towards him.

"About?" the Captain asked, frowning as he picked straw from the stables out of her hair.

"Aramis. He'll be okay, won't he? I know he's not supposed to be sleeping with the Cardinal's lover..."

Treville looked into Annabelle's worried, blue eyes and sighed. "Of course," he said, "only us, Athos and Porthos know about Adele and as long as it stays that way, your idiotic brother will be perfectly fine."

Annabelle nodded. Treville was always right. Everything would be fine.

"Come on you," the Captain said, patting her shoulder and turning to walk out of the stables, "your brothers will be back soon."

"What do you need to speak to them about?"

"They've gotten themselves into trouble," he said before turning his head slightly with a small smile, "again."

* * *

"I've had complaints. An allegation you've been duelling with the Cardinal's Red Guards. Is it true?"

Athos, Porthos and Aramis looked at their Captain, slightly guilty looks on their faces.

"Let me think… no, because that would be illegal," Athos said.

Annabelle grinned slightly from where she was sitting on Treville's bed. She knew her brothers had been fighting with the Red Guards, but she didn't quite understand why it wasn't allowed. They w _ere_ very annoying after all, even to her, and it was usually them who started the fights, anyway. Either that, or they managed to provoke her brothers into drawing their swords first.

"I can't protect you from the Cardinal if you keep fighting his men," Treville said with a sigh, looking at the three of them. "On another note, Captain Cornet and his troop have gone missing. I need you to find out where they are."

Athos frowned. "I thought you sent him to Chartres?"

Treville nodded. "I did. He should have been back yesterday but there has been no word."

"Well, what was he doing there?" Porthos asked.

"He was carrying a number of confidential items to an important meeting in the monastery. Don't bother asking me more questions, because I can't answer them. He was engaged in the King's work - that's all I can say. Just get yourselves to Chartres and find out what happened."

Athos nodded. "Yes Captain."

Annabelle stood as her brothers walked towards her.

"Good morning," Aramis said with a smile, placing a kiss on his sister's head as they walked out of the door. "Sorry for leaving you this morning, I had-"

"Important business? Like sleeping with the Cardinal's wife?" Porthos said.

Aramis turned, pulling Annabelle closer to his side as they walked out of the Captain's office and down the stairs. "The Cardinal holds no love for Adele compared to me," he said confidently.

"But what if he finds out about you? He's not a very nice man," Annabelle said quietly, looking down at her feet as they walked towards the stable masters, who were holding out their horses' reins.

Aramis stopped walking at this and turned to face his sister, bending down to her level. He frowned, knowing that his brothers were worrying about him – there never was a time that they weren't – but for his little sister to be anxious about his affair with Adele… _he_ was meant to be the one worrying about _her_ , not the other way around!

"Belle," he said, placing his hands on either side of his sister's face so that she was looking at him. "You're right; the Cardinal isn't a very nice man. But what I'm doing isn't against the law. If he found out about it, which I assure you, he won't, he'd be angry, but he couldn't hurt me without punishment. I'm safe, okay?"

Annabelle hesitated before nodding, smiling when her brother pulled her into a hug before ruffling her hair and standing up.

"C'mon scamp," Porthos called from where he was standing next to Beau, ready to help her mount. Annabelle grinned, forgetting her previous worries, and ran to him.

Aramis sighed as he watched her, turning slightly as Athos appeared at his side. "She's right, you know," Athos said, putting on his leather gloves. "It may not be against the law but that won't stop the Cardinal. You know how dangerous he is, and for our sister's sake, please; be careful."

* * *

They had journeyed to Chartres quickly, hoping to find something of use that would tell them where Captain Cornet and his men had got to. They hadn't found out much, other than the fact that something was seriously wrong. Cornet was highly-skilled, and according to Treville, he had taken his best men with him. So, for them to suddenly disappear like this, it was quite worrying. They had swiftly made their way back to the Garrison, hoping to get their news to their Captain as soon as possible.

When they arrived, Athos dismounted, handing his reins to the stable master. "Feed the horses and make sure they are well rested," he said before turning to Annabelle and lifting her off her horse.

"I can do it!" the girl protested, but the Musketeer only smiled in response.

"I'm looking for Athos!"

At the sound of his name, Athos turned, eyebrows only slightly raised as he stared at the man – or was it more suitable to call him a boy? – striding into the Garrison.

"You've found him," he said, without any hesitation.

The boy pointed his gun at Athos, and Annabelle felt her eyes widening as Aramis pulled her protectively towards him. This wasn't something she saw every day… and she saw _a lot_ of strange things.

"My name is d'Artagnan of Lupiac in Gascony. Prepare to fight, one of us dies here." The boy looked very confident as he drew his sword and swung it.

"Now that's the way to make an entrance," Aramis said with a grin, watching as Athos brandished his sword and walked into the middle of the courtyard.

"Can I ask why?" he questioned, turning to look at d'Artagnan.

"You murdered my father," the boy said simply, but with a hint of anger and distress.

Athos narrowed his eyes slightly. What w _as_ he on about? "You're mistaken," he said, "I'm not the man you're looking for."

A dark fire raged in d'Artagnan's eyes as he rushed forward. "Murderer!" he yelled, bringing his sword down just as Athos blocked it.

"Do you deny you shot Alexandre d'Artagnan two days ago in cold blood?" the boy shouted, staring angrily at Athos as he pointed his sword at him, not feeling intimidated in the least as the musketeer did the same to him.

"I usually remember the man I kill – that name means nothing to me."

"Then you're a liar as well!"

Annabelle unconsciously stepped back into her brother as the musketeer and d'Artagnan fought again. She didn't really understand what was going on, only that Athos was being accused of a murder she was quite sure he didn't commit.

"Remarkable," she heard Aramis say as he tightened his hold around her slightly, noticing his friend and the boy coming closer to them, "he's keeping up with Athos."

"Rubbish," Porthos scoffed, "he just doesn't want to hurt the lunatic."

The two fought still, the sound of metal hitting metal echoing throughout the Garrison until Athos backed d'Artagnan up against a wooden beam and stuck his sword above him.

"Enough!" he shouted. He breathed out as he glanced up at the sword. "That could have been your throat," he told him, "don't make me kill you over a mistake. I didn't kill your father and I don't want to kill you."

The musketeer turned, walking towards his friends before he heard a shout of "Athos!" and a sword rushing past him, wedging itself into a wooden beam… right above Annabelle's head.

The girl's eyes widened and she froze, slowly lifting her head up to see the sword stuck in the wood, mere inches from the top of her head. She wasn't quite sure if it was just pure luck that she hadn't been hit, or the boy had a _very_ good aim, but she didn't quite care at the moment. She felt Aramis tug her towards him, his brown eyes turning accusingly to the boy.

"And that could have been your back," d'Artagnan told Athos, who looked quite shocked.

Aramis stared at the boy, eyes growing dark. "Or my sister's head," he growled, moving to walk towards him.

Porthos acted quickly, reaching out and grabbing his friend's arm before pulling him back. "Leave the boy, 'Mis," he said, "Athos'll take care of 'im."

D'Artagnan seemed undeterred by Aramis's attempt to lunge at him, only keeping his eyes on Athos. "Now fight me or die on your knees! I don't care which," he said, anger returning in his voice.

Athos stayed where he was, looking at the boy. He was so confident, poised and reminded him of himself when he was his age. He was a great sword-man, and his fighting style was quite unique; he was graceful, but also feisty, and he could see that when d'Artagnan was mad, he wasn't in complete control of himself. Or perhaps that was grief, having just lost his father… but right now he didn't quite care, being on the receiving end of his sword.

Athos gave d'Artagnan a clear look which said 'no'.

"No?" the boy asked, before giving a loud cry and running towards him again.

Aramis narrowed his eyes before drawing his own sword and stepping forward, bringing it down on d'Artagnan's. "He said enough," he told him.

Annabelle watched as d'Artagnan looked up at her brother, dark hair covering his eyes. "Very well, I'll fight both of you," she heard him say, before he lifted his sword again and hit Aramis's.

The girl was getting tired of this now. If d'Artagnan couldn't beat Athos in a fight, he _definitely_ wasn't going to beat both Athos a _nd_ Aramis, and most likely Porthos, since he was bound to join in any time…

"Three of us? Now for God's sake, put up your sword."

Now.

Annabelle was interested in how this would turn out. Obviously her brothers were going to win - d'Artagnan had no chance now - but would he give up?

"You'll have to kill me for it."

Hm, clearly not.

"Lively little bugger, aren't ya?" Porthos shouted over the noise of clashing swords. Annabelle could hear amusement in his voice, and realized he was enjoying it.

The four fought on before the musketeers finally got d'Artagnan backed onto the steps leading to Treville's office. Their swords were pointed at his throat, and Annabelle furrowed her eyebrows, wondering what they'd do next. They wouldn't kill him – at least… not in front of _her._

"Stop fighting! All of you! Is three against one fair?"

Annabelle knew that voice, and she smiled as she turned, watching as Constance Bonacieux stormed into the courtyard.

Athos sighed and turned around, walking away from d'Artagnan. "We weren't going to kill him," he told her.

"Weren't we?" Porthos asked, drawing his sword back and looking over his shoulder.

"Next time, let us know," Aramis said.

"Madame Bonacieux, what are you doing here?" Athos asked, looking at Annabelle. He noticed she was quite tense and motioned for her to come to him, putting his arms around her shoulder when she did. "Are you alright?" he asked her quietly, and she let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding before nodding with a small smile.

Constance made her way over to d'Artagnan and looked at him disapprovingly. "I followed him because I knew he was going to do something _stupid,_ " she said.

"I don't need a woman to protect me," d'Artagnan told her, standing up and walking away from the musketeers.

"Don't say another word," Constance said. "If only men would think instead of fight; there might be more good ones left." She looked at Annabelle and frowned. "And you were doing it in front of your sister too?" She looked at their remorseful faces and rolled her eyes, mumbling something about 'stupid musketeers'.

"Him I'm not sure about. Her I like," Aramis said, grinning, before turning at the sound of men entering the Garrison.

"What's going on?" Treville asked, confused as he looked at the unfamiliar face of d'Artagnan. He shook his head. "Never mind. Did you find Cornet?"

"He never made it to the monastery. Give us twenty men and we'll search the road to Chartres," Athos replied.

Treville sighed as he looked back slightly, and two Red Guards walked forward. "Athos, I'm sorry. These men have come to arrest you."

Annabelle looked up at Treville, eyebrows furrowed. "Why?" she asked, "he hasn't done anything!"

"Shh," Athos told her, looking down at his little sister who was standing in front of him, her back leaning against his chest.

"You are to appear before the King immediately, charged with robbery and murder," Treville said regretfully.

He looked at Aramis and Porthos, noticing their hands dropping to their swords' hilts as the Red Guards moved forward. "I promised them there'd be no trouble," he told them. Aramis and Porthos glanced at each other before reluctantly letting go of their swords. The Captain took Athos' sword as it was handed to him and sighed, turning around to walk back out of the Garrison.

Athos turned, pushing Annabelle gently towards Aramis as he looked at d'Artagnan. "I'm not the man you're looking for," he said.

"Why did my father name _you_ before he died?" the boy asked, stepping forward after Athos turned to walk between the guards.

"I don't know."

Annabelle watched as the men walked out of the Garrison. She looked up at Aramis, her face clearly showing worry and confusion at what had just taken place.

Aramis looked down and kissed his sister's head before taking her hand and walking quickly out of the courtyard, Porthos at his side. "It'll be alright Belle, don't worry," he said, though Annabelle was sure she heard uncertainty in his voice.

She looked back at d'Artagnan as they were rounding the corner, and noticed longingness on his face. The boy wanted answers. He wanted to know who had killed his father. But it w _asn't Athos!_

Something was definitely wrong.

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 ***huge sigh of relief* Well, I thought I'd never get it finished! XD So, here's the first chapter. It was a little longer than I expected, so it took more time, but I've finally got it completed! I** _ **think**_ **it went okay, though obviously I'm not the judge of that! Hope you enjoyed, and please review, otherwise I won't know if I've done a good job or not and can't post more. I was a little conscious about posting this, as I don't know how many of you like OCs, but hopefully** _ **some**_ **of you do! Thank you for reading :3 ~ Gre3nleaf**


	2. Sleight of Hand

**Note: Thank you for the reviews on the last chapter! I'm glad you're enjoying it! :D**

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"A beautiful morning Madame Bonacieux," Aramis said with a smile as he walked up to Constance. Annabelle was trailing behind him, Athos and Porthos, still a little worried about what was going on with d'Artagnan; she knew everything wasn't real and that the Gascon was just trying to get information about Vadim, but either way what he was doing was dangerous, and the girl couldn't help but have a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"I doubt if it looks so good from inside the Chatelet prison," Constance said, anger entering her voice as she looked disapprovingly at the three musketeers.

"You've heard about d'Artagnan?" Athos asked.

"You know, these stories can be greatly exaggerated," Porthos told her. He really didn't need another person thinking the worst of him and his brothers.

"Really?"

"Mhm."

"I was told you lead him into danger and then abandoned him."

Annabelle winced. It sounded horrible when she said it like that.

Porthos drew in a breath. "That one sounds about right," he said guiltily.

"He's your _friend,_ " Constance said, disbelief written all over her face, "what are you going to do about it?"

"We've been getting along well, but I wouldn't say _friends_ exactly," Aramis said, lifting his food up to his mouth.

Suddenly and without warning, Constance's hand flew up and smacked Aramis across his cheek, making him spit the food in his mouth out.

Annabelle let out a laugh before clapping her hand over her mouth as her brother turned to look at her, his dark eyes narrowed threateningly.

"He trusted you!" Constance almost shouted, before her husband came down the stairs, a look of shock on his face as he witnessed what his wife did.

"My most humble apologies Sir, I can't think what came over her," he said.

Aramis nodded. "Your wife's actions were fully justified. It is I who should apologise," he said, before taking off his hat and bowing slightly.

Annabelle couldn't stop the giggles escaping from her mouth, only turning to walk away when Porthos and Athos looked around at her, smiles on their faces. She had been upset since d'Artagnan had been arrested, already feeling quite close to the young man, and so they were glad _something_ had cheered her up, even if it was seeing her brother getting hit in the face by a woman.

Bonacieux looked at his wife before taking her arm and leading her out of the garrison, probably feeling mortified by what had happened.

"God," Aramis said, touching his jaw, "I love that in a woman."

"What, passion?" Porthos laughed.

"Violence," Aramis said with a grin. He turned slightly as the sound of his little's sister's giggles reached his ears, and his grin widened even more.

"Why, dear sister, are you laughing at me?" he asked, moving slowly over to Annabelle, who was sat at the bottom of the Captain's office's stairs.

Annabelle shook her head and set her mouth in a straight line, desperately trying not to laugh. "I'm not," she said.

Aramis shook his head and tutted. "First you laugh at me, then you lie about it?" he said, tilting his head to the side as he slowly began to walk towards her, a smirk on her face.

Athos smiled. "I think you should run, Belle."

Annabelle's eyes widened, watching as her brother stalked towards her, before jumping up and rushing off across the garrison, leaving a laughing Athos and Porthos behind and giggling as Aramis chased after her.

* * *

Annabelle walked beside the Queen and in front of Athos as they made their way to the Chatelet, where a few prisoners would be set free. Personally, the girl thought it was very kind of Anne for doing it, but not many others seemed to think so.

Annabelle had only been 5 years old when she and Aramis travelled to Paris. She had seen the Queen for the first time when her brother was made a musketeer, and must have stood there for two minutes just staring in awe. Anne had been much younger then, but no less beautiful, and the little girl, growing up around games of pretending to be princesses and fighting imaginary foes, had looked at the Queen in admiration and respect. Treville had noticed and taken her with him whenever he went to the palace after that, and the Queen, being homesick and lonely at the time, came to really enjoy her visits and look forward to them. She soon made a friend of her and the two became very close, despite the age difference.

"Good morning Your Majesty," said the man stood at the gate. "A few fortunate souls will be granted their freedom today."

Anne smiled as the man took her hand and bowed. "I wish I could pardon all your prisoners," she said, and Annabelle frowned slightly as the man didn't seem to like that idea.

"Your Majesty should not waste sympathy on those undeserving of it," Treville told the Queen as they walked through the gates.

"All men need hope, Captain. Without it, why should they lead a decent life?" Anne asked before turning as five prisoners walked out of the building.

"Look at them Annabelle; they look half dead, the poor things," she said quietly, a great sadness in her voice.

Annabelle did look. The men were very skinny, like they hadn't eaten in days, and were all wearing torn clothes and battered shoes. They _did_ look half dead – quite frighteningly in fact – and she felt herself backing into Athos slightly as the men stood in a line in front of them, faces completely expressionless.

"In his great mercy and in the name of God, the King has granted you clemency," the Queen said, smiling when the men's faces turned into ones of happiness as she stepped towards them. She was handed a small bag of coins, and placed it into the first man's hands, who bowed respectively.

"I hope this small gift will help you in your new lives," she said before moving down the line.

Treville looked behind him and nodded at Athos, who patted Annabelle's shoulder and turned. "I'm going to check on d'Artagnan," he said to Porthos as he walked towards the prison.

Once the men had been given their gifts, they turned to walk away, off towards their new lives.

"Did you see the gratitude on their faces, Captain?" Anne asked Treville. "Mercy is more effective than any whip or gallows."

"The worst offenders would only consider Your Majesty's gentle nature a weakness. Some men are just born bad," Treville told her. Suddenly, a gunshot echoed throughout the courtyard.

"Prisoners escaping!" Athos shouted.

"Protect the Queen!" Porthos said, and Treville placed an arm around Anne, shielding her from the oncoming convicts.

Aramis immediately turned to Annabelle, seeing the expected worry gleaming in her blue eyes, and grabbed her arm, pushing her towards Porthos, who was stood in front of Treville and the Queen. The captain reached out and snagged her arm, pulling her protectively towards him and wrapping his arm around her chest, not missing how fast her heart had started beating.

The fighting around them seemed like it was going on for ages before Treville moved, taking Annabelle's hand as he walked along the outside of the courtyard, looking back every few seconds to make sure Anne was following him and she wasn't hurt.

"Get the Queen and Annabelle out," he said to a nearby guard before striding forward and joining the fray.

Suddenly, a shout was heard behind her, and Annabelle turned to see Anne was in the arms of one of the prisoners. A gun was being held to her head, and her eyes widened in fear.

"Get her," the prisoner said to d'Artagnan, who walked up to stand beside him. D'Artagnan looked at him.

" _The girl,_ boy. Get her!"

The Gascon hesitantly strode forward and gently grabbed Annabelle, holding his own gun to her head. The girl started squirming immediately, too frightened to remember that d'Artagnan wasn't actually an escaped prisoner.

"Shh, shh Annabelle! It's me, d'Artagnan. I won't hurt you, it's me!" the Gascon whispered in her ear, and she immediately calmed, though her eyes were still filled with terror, and her hands were clasped tightly around d'Artagnan's, which were wrapped around her chest.

The men stopped fighting and turned, the Queen being the first thing their eyes met. However, Aramis, Athos, Porthos and Treville's eyes met Annabelle first.

"Stop! Or your Queen and the girl dies," the prisoner said.

"Hold your fire!" Treville shouted, looking into d'Artagnan's eyes. The boy was new in Paris, and he didn't know if he could trust him yet.

"Back, back!" the prisoner shouted, and Annabelle soon came to the conclusion that this must be Vadim, the man d'Artagnan was sent to find out about.

"Open the gate," Vadim ordered the men, and when they didn't, he loudly repeated the words.

Treville looked at d'Artagnan, who nodded once and loosened his grip on Annabelle, and turned to the man next to him. "Do as he says," he told them.

The man growled, his gun still pointing at Vadim, before ordering the guards to open the gates. A couple ran forward and did just that, revealing 10 or more of Vadim's men who all ran forward, their guns pointing straight back at them.

"Vadim!" a man on a horse shouted.

"You see, I told you they'd let me walk out of here," the prisoner told d'Artagnan.

"Hurt the Queen and we're all dead," the Gascon said. "You don't need her anymore, let's go. Come on!"

Vadim hesitated before turning to Annabelle. "What about her? She isn't of any importance," he said.

Annabelle's eyes widened at this, and she looked at Aramis in the crowd of men in front of them, who was practically snarling at that comment. She saw him move forward, before Treville put his arm out in front of him. "Don't be _stupid_ Aramis!" he told him. "They won't kill her."

D'Artagnan looked down at the girl he was holding. "She's important to the Queen and the Captain of the musketeers. Kill her and they won't stop looking for you until you're dead."

Vadim narrowed his eyes before slowly releasing his hold on Anne. "Your Majesty, my apologies. I hope that, apart from this, you've enjoyed your trip," he said, before kissing her and pushing her away from him.

It was all a blur to Annabelle. One minute she was being held captive by d'Artagnan, and the next she was in Porthos' arms. Gun shots and the sound of metal hitting metal was echoing throughout the courtyard and dead men were scattering the floor.

Porthos quickly lead her to a small corner before turning and running back into the fight with a roar. Annabelle sank to the ground, bringing her knees up and placing her head on the top of them as she cried.

Vadim, his men and d'Artagnan galloped off not even 5 minutes later. "What in the name of God is he doing?" Treville asked.

"Do you still think d'Artagnan was the right man for the job?" Athos huffed before turning and walking back into the courtyard, frantically searching the place for his little sister. He was alarmed to find her still sitting in the corner, and ran over to her, not even noticing as he rushed past Aramis and the Queen, who were laying on the ground.

"Annabelle," he said quietly as he kneeled in front of her, lifting her head up. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears and she was shivering – from cold or fright he didn't know.

"It-it's over?" she asked, looking around her.

"It's over, it's okay now," Athos said as he pulled the girl into his arms, her head immediately coming to rest on his shoulder as he effortlessly picked her up.

"S'she okay?" Porthos asked worriedly as he walked over to them, placing his hand on Annabelle's blonde head.

Athos nodded. "Just in shock," he said, "it was all unexpected."

The musketeer came to a stop as he saw the Queen and Aramis stand up. How did they get down there? He walked over to the two, a confused and suspicious look on his face as he watched Anne cautiously touch a cut on his cheek.

"Your Majesty, are you alright?" he asked.

The Queen turned, a smile on her face despite all that had happened. It quickly faded however, when she noticed Annabelle. "Is s _he?"_ she asked.

Aramis turned and noticed his sister in Athos's arms. "Belle?" he said quietly, walking around so he could see her face. "Are you okay?"

Annabelle nodded as she was set on the ground, Athos keeping a firm hold on her hand. The girl took in a shuddery breath and wiped her eyes before turning to Anne, who walked forward and hugged her. "I am so glad you are okay," she said quietly into Annabelle's ear. "I would never have forgiven myself if you were hurt."

"It wasn't your fault," the girl said as she hugged the Queen back tightly.

Anne sighed as she drew back from the hug, lifting her hand up to move a strand of blonde hair out of her little friend's face.

At that moment, the captain walked up. "I think it would be best that we take you home," he said, before looking at Annabelle and taking in her state. "Both of you."

* * *

 **Well, here's another chapter done XP I'm not too sure about this – I'm terrible at writing descriptive fight scenes so I hope they don't seem too boring! Thanks for reading! Please review! ~ Gre3nleaf**


	3. Commodities

**Hey! Sorry for the late update! Hope this makes up for it though :)**

 **I got a guest review asking me if I could write the whole episodes with Belle in them. To be honest, I wanted to do that in the first place, but figured it would take way longer for me to update and I'd probably get bored, so I just stuck with taking my favourite scene from each episode. I will probably write the whole episode for my very last chapter (30), but for now, I'm going to decline that request and carry on with how it is ;) Thanks for asking, though!**

* * *

"PORTHOS!"

The minute those words left Annabelle's mouth, the girl forgot about her orders to stay hidden and ran out, rushing to the musketeer's side.

Annabelle and her brothers had been on their way to delivering Bonnaire – a very annoying man who, so far, she was holding a big disliking for - to the king when they were ambushed by a group of men. Aramis had shouted at her to stay behind Porthos, who was guarding Bonnaire, while he, d'Artagnan and Athos fought the men, but she completely ignored that when she saw one of the ambushers sneak up behind Porthos while he was fighting with someone else and deliver a huge blow to his back with what looked to be an axe. He had shouted out in pain before falling to the ground, and now Annabelle was at his side on her knees, her hand on his shoulder as she called for someone to help.

"Aramis! Porthos is hurt! Athos!" she all but screamed, watching, horrified, as Porthos's face grew pale and he started letting out agonising breaths.

"Are you alright?" Aramis asked as he rushed over to his sister and friend. "What happened?" he said, looking at his sister.

"Someone hit him with an axe," Annabelle told him, sitting back as Aramis inspected Porthos' wound.

"That's enough," came an unfamiliar voice, and everyone turned to face a man who had walked out of the building. "I've no argument with you," he said, looking at the musketeers, "only with him." He snarled at Bonnaire.

"Gentlemen, allow me to introduce my business partner, Paul Meunier," Bonnaire said.

"On the face of it, I'd say your partnership isn't going well!" Aramis said, a hint of anger in his voice as he continued to inspect Porthos' gaping wound.

"I funded Emile's expeditions for eight years, and yet I discover his ship has arrived, my cargo is nowhere to be found, and he's made no contact with me!" Paul growled, glaring at Bonnaire.

"There was no- there was no time, Paul! I was forced to travel to Paris without warning," Bonnaire explained.

"Hand him over and we will be on our way," Paul said simply.

Athos shook his head and stepped forward. "I sympathise with your grievances, Monsieur - no doubt your partner is a cheat and a swindler – however, it is our duty to deliver him safely to Paris, so you must wait and seek justice there."

"I'm not leaving without him."

"That is unfortunate, because neither are we."

Bonnaire sighed. "I don't suppose I have a say in this, do I?" he asked.

Annabelle watched as Aramis stood up, pistol pointed straight at Paul, and told him to tell his men to lay down their weapons. She looked down at Porthos and placed her hand on his cheek. "It'll be okay," she said with a smile, and he shakily smiled back, reaching up and grasping her hand in his.

The girl looked back up just in time to see Paul nod at his men, silently telling them to back away.

Aramis came back to kneel beside his friend a moment later, and started making make-shift bandages out of his shirt to stop the blood gushing out from Porthos' wound until they could get somewhere safer and properly see to it. Annabelle stood up and walked over to the building to let Aramis concentrate more.

Athos smiled faintly when she came to stand next to him, warily looking at both Paul and Bonnaire. He put a hand on her shoulder before glancing over at Porthos. "Is he doing alright?" he asked.

Annabelle shrugged. "I think so, but… there's a lot of blood, and he's in pain…"

Athos sighed. "We will get moving soon." He turned to Paul, who was standing next to him. "I will inform the Cardinal of your claims against Bonnaire."

The older man's suspicious expression didn't change. "How do I know you won't betray me?"

Athos' eyes narrowed and he moved forward slightly, but threateningly. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," he said.

Annabelle's eyes widened at that and she grimaced, remembering a time when Athos had used those exact words and that same tone with her.

* * *

" _Why won't you let me go?" a 9-year-old Annabelle asked, watching as her friends skipped off to go and play in the woods nearby._

" _Because it's dangerous," Athos said simply, continuing with cleaning his weapons._

 _Annabelle crossed her arms over her chest and furrowed her eyebrows, reminding the musketeer of her older brother. Aramis was away for a couple days, visiting a friend he had grown up with when he was small. (Annabelle was too young to remember him, otherwise she would have gone with him). This meant that she was left in the care of Athos, Porthos and Treville, which she was quite used to._

 _The girl turned, watching her friends as they disappeared up the path. They were going to play by a lake in the woods, and had told Annabelle that she was welcome to join them. She had asked Athos, to which he had simply replied 'no'._

" _How is it dangerous? Aramis lets me go all the time!"_

" _That is a lie Annabelle, and you know it. He will only let you go if he is training men up there."_

 _Annabelle sighed in annoyance. "Over-protective old man," she mumbled._

" _What was that?"_

" _Nothing."_

 _Athos' eyes narrowed as he stared at the girl before turning back to cleaning his pistol._

 _Silence._

 _More silence._

 _Annabelle used the toe of her boot to kick a stone halfway across the garrison._

 _Silence. Again._

 _More si-_

"Please _Athos?"_

"No _, Annabelle!"_

" _I hate you so much!"_

 _Athos turned to look at her, noticing Treville out of the corner of his eye, and fixed her with a deadly gaze. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," he told her._

" _Well, you heard it, and I wasn't joking, so… so there!" the girl said before running off, brushing past Treville and heading to her and Aramis' rooms._

" _What happened?" the Captain asked Athos with a raised eyebrow._

 _Athos dropped the pistol on the table he was sat on, listening to the bang it made as it impacted the wood before dragging his hand down his face, sighing heavily. "She is upset that I won't let her play with her friends by the lake in the woods."_

 _Treville frowned. "Aramis wouldn't have let her either. There has been reports of bandits hiding around that area," he said. "Should I go and speak to her?"_

 _Athos shook his head, standing up and stretching. "I'll do it," he said, before following after his sister._

 _Annabelle was lying face down in her bed, her head half-buried in the pillow. Athos walked in, shutting the door quietly behind him before walking over to the bed. He sat down and looked at the girl._

" _I don't hate you 'Thos," came a muffled voice, and Athos nodded, though she couldn't see him._

 _"I know you don't," he said._

" _Sorry."_

" _Mhm."_

 _Annabelle rolled over onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, blonde hair plastered all over her face, sticking to the tear tracks that streaked down from her puffy red eyes._

" _Are you angry?" she asked._

" _No. But I want you to know that I am not letting you play in the woods because it is dangerous. I do not want you getting hurt. If you did, I wouldn't know what to do with myself."_

 _Annabelle nodded before sitting up and wrapping her arms around Athos's neck. "I'm really sorry. I was just upset that my friends got to play and I didn't."_

" _I am not saying you can't play with them, just not in the woods," Athos told her as he returned the hug._

 _Annabelle nodded. "Love you," she said._

" _I love you too."_

* * *

Athos speaking brought Annabelle out of her thoughts, and she shook her head quickly before looking up at the musketeer and Paul.

"If I see your scouts on the road again, there won't be any second chances," Athos said, and Annabelle suddenly remembered the riders that had been following them before they were ambushed.

Paul frowned, looking at the musketeer. "What scouts?" he asked.

"Two men in black. They've been on our tail since Le Havre," Athos replied, turning and walking towards Aramis and Porthos, his face one of concern.

Paul raised his eyebrows. "They're not mine," he said, watching as Athos spun around to look at him, his expression changing into one of confusion. "I'm not the only man with an account to settle with Emile Bonnaire."

Annabelle frowned, looking at said man. He was leaning against the barn door, arms crossed as he hesitantly watched his so-called 'partner' walk away with his men, not looking in the least bit troubled.

* * *

Annabelle grimaced slightly as Porthos' hold around her hand tightened as he lay on the floor, clearly in horrible pain from the wound. She placed her other hand on top of Porthos' and took in a shaky breath, hating seeing one of her brothers in pain. She looked up at Aramis.

"Will I lose my arm?" Porthos asked, eyes closed as he breathed in and out to try and lessen the pain. It didn't seem to be working.

Aramis sighed. "No, but you might lose your life," he said before gently patting his friend's shoulder and standing up, walking over to the cart where d'Artagnan and Athos were stood.

"That bad?" Athos asked.

"It requires needlework and soon," Aramis replied, taking a bottle of water from the cart and hurrying back to the injured musketeer.

"Will he make it to Paris?"

Annabelle looked at Athos when he said that with a look that clearly said, 'are you serious?' Porthos was practically _screaming_ in pain, and he thought he would be able to ride?

"He won't make it to the next village unless I get a chance to sew up that wound," Aramis huffed as he rushed back and forth from the cart to Porthos.

"Do you think we should leave the road and look for shelter?" d'Artagnan asked, the young man clearly worried for his new friend.

"Not here," Athos said, "we will ride on for a few miles and then find somewhere."

Aramis looked up, his face showing that he absolutely did not agree with what had just been said. "Porthos isn't fit to ride anywhere," he told him.

"Get him on the cart," Athos told d'Artagnan, turning towards his horse.

"Didn't you hear what I said?" Aramis asked. Annabelle could hear the anger building up in his voice as he stood up. "If I don't operate soon he will die."

"We'll wait until its dark."

At this, Aramis finally burst, striding towards his friend and shaking him. " _What's the matter with you?"_ he shouted, before lowering his tone slightly as he looked into the blue of Athos' eyes. "Don't you care about Porthos?"

Athos stared at Aramis. Finally, he nodded. "Alright. I know somewhere nearby."

Annabelle raised her eyebrows as she stood up, Porthos having relinquished his hold on her hand. "Why didn't you mention it before?" she asked.

"Come here," Athos said, completely ignoring her question.

Annabelle sighed before rolling her eyes and walking over to the musketeer, grabbing onto her horse's reins as she was helped into the saddle. The girl watched as d'Artagnan, Athos and Aramis lifted Porthos onto the cart, turning and walking Beau over to the trees beside the barn when his shouts of pain became too much for her. Her blue eyes caught sight of Bonnaire as he sat on his horse, watching as well. Feeling someone's eyes on him, he glanced up, looking at Annabelle who quickly averted her gaze and focussed on the apples in the trees next to her.

There was something about that man. She didn't like him one bit, and it wasn't just because of his awful sense of humour and boring stories. She felt that he was hiding something…

However, she also couldn't help but feel that Athos was hiding something too. It wasn't like him to completely disregard Porthos' health and assume he was fit to ride, especially after Aramis had just told him he would lose his _life_ if his wound wasn't closed up soon. And besides all that, he had known a place where they could stay after all!

 _What_ was going on?

* * *

 **Well, would you look at that, I've finally finished chapter 3! I hope you enjoyed it, and again, I'm sorry for keeping you all waiting. Life's been kinda hectic lately lol. Please review! Thank you! ~ Gre3nleaf**


	4. The Good Soldier

Annabelle gave a huge sigh as she sat down on the bench in the Garrison, furrowing her eyebrows before glancing at her brother. Aramis, who was sat next to her, was deep in thought, dark brown eyes staring into space. His whole posture was stiff, and Annabelle came to the conclusion that he was thinking about Savoy.

It had been a confusing – and quite horrible, if she were to say so herself – day, for her and the musketeers. The Duke of Savoy had almost been assassinated as soon as he stepped out of his carriage when he arrived in Paris. Someone had shot a musket, but it had (thankfully or not, Annabelle didn't quite know yet) hit a man behind the Duke, killing him instead. The musketeers had ran after the assassin, only for Aramis to catch him and find out that it was someone neither he or his sister had seen in over five years.

It was Marsac. A man Annabelle had once called her brother. A musketeer. Or, he _was_ a musketeer. Aramis had told her the story of the massacre at Savoy once, when she was about ten years old, so she couldn't remember much, but the girl knew enough to know that what had happened had been devastatingly awful; her brother had been completely traumatised, still having nightmares to this day.

Annabelle could remember Marsac as if he had only left for Savoy with her brother yesterday. She remembered the games they used to play, the horse rides they would go on, the picnics and swims in the lake he would take her to… she had only been eight years old when he left, but everything was still so clear in her mind. She had missed him so much when Aramis came home without him, and had constantly asked when he would be coming back. She couldn't remember what Aramis' replies had been to those questions, but she had finally decided that Marsac was gone and she would never see him again…

* * *

" _Annabelle?"_

 _An eight-year old girl spun around quickly at the sound of her name, and her blue eyes immediately rested on a man who was slowly making his way up the stairs._

 _She had been sitting on the wood of Captain Treville's balcony outside his office, trying to read a book he had brought for her while he quickly visited the king. She couldn't read the words, but the pictures were pretty, and she had decided to make up her own story with them. So far, a beautiful princess was just about to be rescued by a handsome prince, but reality soon broke through. Luckily for her, it was a good interruption._

 _A huge smile on her face, Annabelle bolted up, her book lying forgotten on the floor, and ran across the balcony, down a few steps, and jumped right into Aramis' arms, breathing in the smell of metal, nature, and blood_.

Blood _._

" _Are you hurt?" she said in a concerned voice, drawing back from the hug and scanning her brother for any tell-tale sign of an injury. But besides from the clean white bandage wrapped around his head, there was none. He seemed fine._

 _Aramis smiled sadly. "No, Belle. I am okay. I have been at war. And God have I missed you," he said before pulling his little sister back into a tight hug, squeezing his eyes shut and not caring about the tears that fell from his eyes._

 _Annabelle gratefully accepted the hug. She had been away from her brother for far too long._

 _Suddenly, her eyes snapped open again, and she turned her head slightly. "Where is Marsac?"_

 _Aramis' eyes stayed shut. Couldn't he just have one moment when he didn't have to think about that?_

" _He is not here Annabelle."_

" _Where is he?"_

" _Gone."_

* * *

"You want some dinner?"

A voice brought both siblings out of their reveries, and they looked up to see the cook walking towards them, carrying a pot of what looked to be stew.

"No thanks," Aramis said with a small smile, pushing the pot towards his sister. "You should eat though. We missed lunch while we were waiting for the Duke to arrive."

Annabelle shook her head. She didn't feel like eating.

The cook hobbled away, and Aramis quickly turned to look at him. "Serge? You remember Marsac?"

Serge nodded. "Oh, I remember him. A good soldier until, well… you know," he said, before his voice took on a tone of slight remorse, which was quite unusual for the Garrison cook. "It's this visit from the Duke of Savoy, isn't it? Stirs up bad memories."

Aramis looked away as Serge walked off, and Annabelle could see that he was thinking again. "Are you alright?" she asked, her face one of concern as she placed her hand on her older brother's.

Aramis smiled and turned his hand over so Annabelle's smaller one was closed in his. "I'm fine," he said, leaning forward to kiss his sister's forehead.

The girl smiled, before something above her caught her eye and she looked up, noticing Treville on the balcony of his office. Words that she had heard from the man Marsac had found earlier on echoed throughout her mind as her eyes met the captain's. Surely what he had said wasn't true. It _couldn't_ be. Treville was – and had been for eight years – a father to her, and the idea that he had betrayed the musketeers at Savoy seemed insane.

But the look on Aramis' face – as he glanced up to see what his sister was looking at – told her that her brother may not have the same opinion as her…

* * *

The two stayed there, silently thinking to themselves, until Treville came down the stairs a bit later, tossing a half-eaten apple into the horses' stables. He paused when he reached the bottom and looked at the siblings, still in the same place he had seen them in half an hour before. "Aramis? Annabelle? Is everything okay?" he asked.

The two looked up, and Annabelle smiled at the captain and nodded. Aramis, however, wore a (obviously fake – Annabelle could tell those and the real ones apart now) smile as he stared at Treville, his usually warm brown eyes turning cold. He nodded once, before turning back to glaring at the wood of the table in front of him.

The captain stayed for a couple seconds, looking intently at Aramis, before smiling at Annabelle and turning to walk away. "I'm going to see the king," he called, "I'll be back soon."

The musketeer watched him turn the corner and disappear from sight before standing up, walking quickly over to the stairs leading up to Treville's office. Annabelle's eyebrows furrowed confusedly as she watched him, turning herself around and hopping off the bench. "Aramis! Where are you going?" she called, but Aramis didn't reply, instead putting a finger to his lips and silently telling her to follow him up the stairs. The girl did, though she was still nervous as to what her brother was up to.

She hurried up the steps, taking two at a time and constantly checking behind her to make sure that Treville wasn't coming back. She saw her brother slip into the captain's office and her eyes widened.

"'Mis!" she called, running after him, "what are you _doing?_ "

Aramis was rummaging through some papers on a shelf and looking inside boxes, brown eyes so intent on finding something. "I'm looking for-". His voice trailed off as he picked up a letter and scanned it quickly, but he soon shook his head and tossed it back inside the box. "-I'm looking for something that will give Treville away."

Annabelle stayed by the doorway, checking over her shoulder in case the captain decided to come back at that moment, or any curious cadets began to wonder what they were doing in his office. She quickly turned back to her brother at those words, watching as he found a key under Treville's desk and walked over to the cupboard by the door, unlocking it and frantically searching through the many scrolls. "You can't be serious Aramis! Do you really think that what that man said was true? That Treville is guilty of ordering the attack at Savoy?"

The musketeer looked up at his sister, and Annabelle was surprised to see the most pitiful look on his face. His usually mischievous brown eyes were swimming in sorrow and grief, and the girl felt emotion wash over her as she looked at him.

"I don't know, Belle, I don't know. But I _have_ to, do you understand? I can't live the rest of my life with the weight of the fact that the man I know as my father may have condemned so many of my friends, so many of my _brothers,_ to death. I don't want him to be guilty, and _please God_ let him not be, but I _have to know_."

Annabelle found that she had no words. Slowly, she nodded, showing her brother that she understood, and watched him as he turned back to rummaging inside the cupboard.

She couldn't believe they were doing this – searching for clues that _Treville,_ of all people, may have been the one who ordered the attack on so many innocent men all those years ago. She could only hope that they didn't find anything of importance…

* * *

"The Captain keeps a record of every Musketeer campaign since the regiment was founded, all except that one night. There's no documents for the mission in Savoy - no maps, no letters, nothing at all. Coincidence?"

Athos, Aramis, d'Artagnan, Marsac and Annabelle were in Constance's house, having met up after Athos' incident with the Duke of Savoy, and the siblings' occurrence after 'breaking into' the captain's office. Annabelle was sat on a chair, contemplating what her brother had said, while Athos, d'Artagnan, Marsac and Aramis stood around a table.

"Perhaps you just didn't find them," d'Artagnan said with a raise of his eyebrows.

Aramis turned to him with a glare. "His filing is meticulous. There's nothing there. The documents have either been removed or destroyed. Right, Annabelle? You were with me, and you could see there was nothing."

All eyes fell on the blonde, and she widened her eyes. "I-I didn't see anything," she confirmed, "but that doesn't mean Treville's guilty Aramis. We can't be too quick to lay blame…"

"Belle's right," d'Artagnan said, "I'm still confident there's a perfectly good explanation."

"I'll be happy to hear it," Marsac said in an amused tone, and Annabelle felt the love she had recently found again for him die down just that bit.

"I admit it's troubling, but I agree with d'Artagnan," Athos stated.

Aramis looked at the older musketeer with pleading eyes, his hope that his brothers would help him with this diminishing slightly. "So you're content to do nothing?" he asked. "How much evidence do you need that something is badly wrong? What does it take to make you act?"

"I will never believe the Captain is a traitor."

Aramis laughed, not quite believing anything he was hearing. "You think _I_ want to?"

Annabelle stood up, sensing that something bad would happen between them both if she didn't.

"Let me help. I give you my word as a gentleman that I won't try to leave. Aramis, Annabelle, tell them. You know me," Marsac said as he stood up, holding his bound hands towards the musketeers.

Aramis glanced at Annabelle before looking back at the man he had once called his friend. "We used to."

"Every word I have told you has turned out to be the truth. Why would I deceive you now?"

Aramis turned to Athos, who looked ready to say 'no' and be done with it, but instead, the musketeer drew his knife and cut the ropes binding Marsac's hands together. The man rubbed his wrists and nodded at Athos, obviously showing his thanks.

Annabelle was beginning to get nervous now. She walked forward until she was standing next to her brother, and looked up at him. "What are you going to do now?" she asked, blue eyes glinting in the fire from the burning candle on the table.

Aramis looked at Athos.

"We're going to ask the captain some questions, that's all," he said with a smile.

Questions.

If only that had been all they were.

* * *

 **WHOOP WHOOP I FINALLY FINISHED THE NEXT CHAPTER XD I'm so sorry for the wait guys, honestly I am, but I hope this makes up for it! Thank you for reading, and please review! ~ Gre3nleaf**


	5. The Homecoming

**Onward to chapter 5!**

* * *

Annabelle yawned as her blue eyes fluttered open, immediately closing them again as the sunlight streaming in from the open window almost blinded her.

Groaning, she rolled over until she was on her back, and brought her hands up to her eyes, letting another yawn escape her mouth.

"Good morning sleepy head," came a cheery voice, and Annabelle turned, opening her eyes slightly to see Aramis sitting on the edge of his bed and strapping his weapons belt around his trousers, all the while grinning and looking way too happy for this early in the morning.

Ah.

Right.

Porthos' birthday party.

It had been the musketeer's birthday the day before, and he had obviously chosen to spend an evening drinking with Aramis, Athos, Treville, d'Artagnan and some other friends to celebrate. Annabelle had spent some time with them, but had soon started to get tired, so Aramis had brought her up to their room and she had quickly fallen asleep, so she didn't know how late they had stayed out, but Aramis looked to be well-rested and happy, so it probably hadn't been _too_ late.

"Morning," the girl replied, voice slurred with sleep as she slowly sat up in bed and pushed the covers off. "Did you have a nice night?"

"Yes, very nice. Lots of drinks, more drinks… and melons," Aramis replied, sitting down again and beginning to pull on his boots. "You were alright while we were gone?"

Annabelle nodded, choosing to ignore the previous statement and trying not to think about the fact that her brother was either still drunk, or was just his usual happy self…. she decided to stick with the latter. "You were only downstairs. Nobody would have been able to kidnap me without you seeing, don't worry."

"Well, I'm terribly sorry. I din't realize it was against the law to worry about my little sister," Aramis said with a chuckle. "Come on you, get up," he said. The musketeer walked over to his sister's bed and reached down, lifting her up and placing her on the floor where an involuntary shiver ran down her spine at the coldness of the ground beneath her bare feet.

"'Mis!" she whined, turning to get back into bed.

"Oi," Aramis said, blocking her way, "Athos will be waiting."

Annabelle groaned. "Waiting for what?"

"To give his little sister a good morning hug."

"Seriously? He's probably still in be-"

"Excuse me?"

Annabelle jumped as a new face appeared at the door.

"Good morning Athos," Aramis said.

Athos nodded at his fellow musketeer before turning to the girl with a smile. "Did you sleep well?" he asked, walking into the room. The man was already dressed, his hat in one hand and a full mug in the other.

Annabelle nodded, yawning yet again as she stretched her arms out. "As well as I could with all the noise you were making."

Athos narrowed his eyes playfully. "Very funny," he said.

Annabelle smiled. "Did _you_ sleep well? If you even slept, that is."

Athos chuckled as he moved closer to his sister, enveloping her in a hug when he reached her. "I slept perfectly well, thank you very much. We did not stay up late."

"Why? It was Porthos' birthday."

"Yes, but we had a little sister just upstairs that was sleeping," Aramis spoke up from the other side of the room.

Annabelle rolled her eyes. "I'm not a baby."

"But you are not yet an adult," Athos said, raising his eyebrows as he looked sternly at the girl, before handing his mug to her. "Drink."

Annabelle glanced at him, a look of uncertainty on her face as she peered into the cup.

This time, it was Athos who rolled his eyes. "It is not _alcohol_ , Belle. Your brother would kill me if it was."

Aramis laughed as he walked over to the two, patting his friend on the back. "That would be taking things a little too far, my friend. What do you say we go and get some breakfast while our sister changes?" he asked, putting his hand up to silence any interruption from his defying little sister. " _N_ _ow_ , Annabelle. I don't want to come up again in five minutes to see you back in bed!"

And with that, the two musketeers walked out, leaving Annabelle to unwillingly scramble around the room, searching for some clothes.

* * *

"Captain, Captain Treville!"

All heads turned toward the shout which echoed throughout the Garrison. Athos' spoon paused in mid-air on its way to his mouth, d'Artagnan's feet stopped walking towards the stables, Aramis' hands halted from tying off the braid he had just put in Annabelle's hair, and Treville all but dropped the sword he had been practising with, the clang of metal hitting the ground ringing in everyone's ears.

The young boy, who had rushed into the Garrison courtyard as if he were being chased by a mad man and more or less shouted these words into Treville's ear, causing him to drop the weapon in the first place, stood, frozen in place, eyes wide, as the Captain jumped and spun around.

" _What was that for?"_ he shouted, making the boy flinch.

"I-I… I bring a message, Sir, from the Captain of the Red guard."

Athos, who was now standing next to Treville, looked at him. "Is that all?"

"Er… yes, Sir."

Treville's heart had thankfully slowed down now, and he breathed in before looking pointedly at the boy. "What is it?"

"One of your musketeers, Porthos, Sir, has been arrested."

This caught the attention of Aramis and d'Artagnan, who quickly followed Athos' example and came to stand near them.

"Porthos?" Aramis asked. "I thought he was sleeping in his room."

The boy shook his head. "No, Sir."

"What are the charges?" d'Artagnan asked.

"Murder."

The three musketeers and d'Artagnan looked at each other, before turning back to the messenger stood nervously in front of them.

"Thank you," Treville told him, "you can go."

The boy bowed awkwardly before whirling around and quickly walking out of the Garrison.

"And boy!" the Captain called after him, making him stop and turn to look at him. "Next time, don't shout in my ear."

The boy smiled, muttered a quick apology, and then was gone.

"Murder?"

All three turned to Annabelle, who looked extremely anxious.

Athos wasted no time in whistling to the stable boy and calling to him to bring out their horses.

"We'll get to the bottom of this. Come on," he said, turning and mounting his horse.

Treville looked up at him, a frown plastered on his face. "You three go. I will stay and try to find out more about these ridiculous charges. Ask Porthos if he can remember anything. Tell him his life may well depend on it."

* * *

"You must remember something," d'Artagnan said, looking at Porthos through the bars of his cell.

The prison was a dark, cold place, and Annabelle didn't like it one bit. It was full of criminals – dangerous men – and even though they were locked away in cells and couldn't get out, it hadn't escaped the girl's notice that both Aramis and Athos were keeping her as close to them as possible.

"The dead man," Aramis said, "do you know who he was? Where you met him?"

"You didn't kill him," Athos practically hissed, disgusted even by the idea of it.

"Is there anything you need?" d'Artagnan asked.

Porthos raised his eyebrows. "A decent lawyer."

"There's been a misunderstanding. We'll clear it up," Athos told him.

Annabelle nodded, grabbing Porthos' hand which had been resting on one of the cell's bars.

"We'll get you out, Porthos," she said.

Porthos smiled at his sister, heart swelling with love. He turned his hand, grasping Annabelle's in his. "Thank you scamp."

"And you never know," Aramis said with a shrug, "we might get lucky with the judge."

* * *

"I think it's quite clear what happened here."

It had been five minutes and Annabelle already despised this man.

"Your Honour, if I might say something?" Treville spoke up, stepping forward.

"We'll come to you, _Captain_ Treville," the judge sneered.

Annabelle made a face, and Aramis gently pinched her side. "You'll be up there next if he sees you," he said sternly as his sister sighed.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself?" the judge asked.

One of the Red Guards pushed Porthos forward, and Annabelle felt both Athos and Aramis shift uncomfortably, wanting more than anything to go out there and give that man a piece of their mind.

"It was my birthday," Porthos told him. "The party was over, so I took a walk."

"And what did you do on this walk?"

"I, er… admired the beauty and the serenity of Paris after dark."

The crowd burst into laughter, and Annabelle felt herself close to tears. Things really weren't looking good.

Everyone remained silent as Porthos told the judge that he had visited a tavern on this walk, met a lady, and brought her a drink.

"What happened next?"

The musketeer looked down at his feet. "I don't exactly recall. I must have fallen asleep."

"To wake alongside a dead man with a bullet in his head?"

Porthos found himself lost for words. It was true, but there was no way he was going to be able to tell the judge that and still be deemed innocent. He twisted his head, catching Annabelle's eye and looked at her for a moment, before turning back to the judge and nodding.

"Yes," he said, uncertainty clear in his voice.

"And you claim to have no idea how that happened?" the judge asked, knowing exactly what he was doing.

Porthos shook his head.

The judge stared at him for a moment before looking at the captain of the musketeers, nodding once.

Treville took this as an invitation to speak, and stepped forward, standing between Porthos and the judge.

"Porthos du Vallon is a man of fine reputation... a good soldier, and a Musketeer of many years' standing."

"Du Vallon?" the judge asked in an almost mocking voice. "Another of these fellows who adopts a noble name so he can play the gentleman?"

Annabelle couldn't stand it any more. "Porthos is more of a gentleman than anyone I've met," she said in a bold voice, glaring at the judge, who snapped his head around to look at her.

"And who are you?" he asked.

"Annabelle, you stay _quiet,_ " Aramis hissed, before looking up at the white-haired man. "Forgive her, Your Honour. She does not know what she is saying."

"No, no," the judge said, gesturing for Annabelle to walk forward, "I want to hear what she has to say."

Annabelle hesitantly looked up at Aramis, inwardly grimacing at the angry expression on his face and sighing when she saw Athos looked no different. Heart beating rapidly, she looked at Porthos, who smiled encouragingly as she slowly walked towards Treville.

She was so _stupid._ Why had she let her anger get the better of her?

"What is your name, _girl?_ " the judge asked.

"A-Annabelle d'Herblay…"

"And what is your connection to Porthos Du Vallon?"

"He… he is my brother."

"Your brother?" the judge exclaimed, "that seems hardly unlikely, if I do say so myself."

Treville placed a hand on the girl's quaking shoulder, gently squeezing. "Porthos has been a part of Annabelle's life for eight years, Your Honour. She has known him for as long as she can remember and they are extremely close. Therefore she considers him as her brother."

"I see…" the judge said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Do you trust this musketeer, Annabelle d'Herblay?"

Annabelle nodded. "With my life."

"Do you think he killed this man?"

"No, Your Honour. I _know_ he didn't. He would never do that."

"Even if he was drunk?"

Again, the girl adamantly shook her head. "Porthos is a good and kind gentleman. He is a loyal musketeer and would never hurt anyone for no reason."

"What if there was a reason?"

"I- no. No, he wouldn't," she said, beginning to stress. Why was he asking all these questions?

"How do you know?"

"Enough!" Treville said, glaring at the judge. "I am sorry, Your Honour, but she is a young girl and does not need to be asked these questions." Turning, he patted her shoulder. "Go back to your brother Belle," he said quietly, watching her rush back to Aramis, who took her into his arms, despite how he had been feeling earlier.

The captain quickly composed himself before looking back at the judge. "As I was saying, I know many born gentlemen who could not hold a candle to Porthos."

"Let me tell you something that life has taught _me_ , Captain!" the judge said, anger quickly rising after what Treville had said to him. "You can dress your dog in a fine suit, but once a mongrel, _always_ a mongrel!" he said, ignoring how Treville's glare intensified. "A man lies dead, _murdered,_ " he continued, "an example must be made."

Annabelle felt the tears beginning to flow from her eyes, and she instantly started mentally begging the judge not to say what everyone knew he was about to say.

"Porthos _Du Vallon,_ I find you guilty, and sentence you to death. Sentence to be carried out immediately."

"No," Annabelle whispered, struggling in Aramis' strong grip, "no, please!"

"This is irregular, Sir!" Treville exclaimed in anger, striding towards the man who had just sentenced his musketeer to death, "I will lodge an appeal with the king."

"That is your right, Captain," the judge said casually, before looking at the Red Guards standing behind Porthos. "Take this man to the gallows."

Annabelle watched, completely heart-broken, as they grabbed him and - almost viciously - tore his pauldron off of his shoulder. D'Artagnan tried to climb over the barriers to go to him, but both Aramis and Athos reached out to stop him, not wanting to cause even more trouble.

"Delay them," Treville said as he quickly walked up to them, grabbing Annabelle's hand and taking her with him as her brother, Athos and d'Artagnan ran after Porthos.

Everything was a blur.

 _Lucky with the judge._

In no way could that have been considered _lucky._ Now, Porthos was sentenced to die immediately, and for all she knew, she may not have the time to say goodbye.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Please review! (Sorry for any mistakes - I'll fix them tomorrow).**

 **Also, when I say they 'stripped him of his uniform', you know what I mean, right? You've seen the episode… they don't literally strip his uniform off, they take off that… arghh I can't find the word! What do they call the thing on the musketeers' arms? That thing! Yes XD They take that off, which is basically his uniform, so yes. Hope it makes sense! EDIT: It's a pauldron! Thank you to everyone who told me! I've added it in :D**

 **Thanks again! ~ Gre3nleaf**


	6. The Exiles

**Chapter 6! This was fun to write, as I think the interactions between the musketeers and Annabelle in this are very sweet and brotherly! Hope you enjoy!**

 **By the way, t** **here are 24 followers for this story, and now 12 chapters, yet I have only 20 reviews. Please. If you follow this, then you obviously like it! Please review, you have no idea how much I appreciate them. Thank you :)**

* * *

"Annabelle."

The girl in question turned her head and looked up to face her brother. She was sat on the ground, behind a wagon, next to the baby she and Aramis were currently trying to protect. Agnes, baby Henri's mother, was next to her, singing a quiet song.

It had been a long couple of days, to put it simply.

She, Aramis and d'Artagnan had been sent to find Agnes and Henri and escort them back to Paris, not knowing the reasons why but going anyway. They had found the child and his mother, only to have men come and take the baby away and murder Father Duval, the priest at the church they were at.

They had taken Agnes, who had been utterly distraught at the time, back to Constance's house, only to discover the full story of Agnes' late husband and Henri's father Philippe.

He had been Louis' older twin brother and had been of royal blood.

But now he was dead, meaning his baby son Henri was the rightful King of France.

The Cardinal had ordered Treville to tell his men to bring the baby to him immediately. Nevertheless, Aramis hadn't liked that idea one bit.

He knew what would happen to Agnes and her child, and he didn't want that.

So he had asked his sister for help and taken them somewhere they would be able to leave France and hopefully never be heard of again.

"Yes?" Annabelle asked, stroking Henri's soft hair with a smile before standing up and looking at the musketeer.

"I want you to get some food, alright? Agnes will need some for the journey," he said, handing her a few coins.

Annabelle nodded, turning to walk away, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her and pulled her back. "Be careful," the man said in a stern voice, eyebrows raised in warning. "If you see anything suspicious, come straight back, do you hear me?"

The girl nodded with a sigh. _So protective,_ she thought as she walked out from behind the wagon.

It wasn't that she hated the fact her brother, Athos, Porthos, Treville and d'Artagnan were extremely protective of her - they had good reasons; they were soldiers, and they knew all the dangers of the world – it just annoyed her sometimes. She was growing up, and whether they liked it or not, she wouldn't be a child they could look after and protect for much longer.

Sighing, the girl stopped and looked around, blue eyes catching sight of a man selling meat at a stall nearby.

She walked over to it and smiled at him, pointing out what she wanted and handing him one of the coins.

As the man was chopping the meat in front of him and wrapping it in brown paper, Annabelle heard a familiar voice.

"Let's split up, shall we?"

Porthos.

 _Oh God,_ she thought as her heart beat increased, eyes falling on not only the musketeer who had spoken, but Athos and d'Artagnan as well.

They were walking not far off from her, obviously looking for them.

"Little miss?"

Annabelle looked at the man in front of the meat stall. His face looked confused and he was holding the meat out to her.

The girl shook her head, taking it from him with a smile. "Sorry," she said, before turning and quickly walking away, "thank you."

What was she going to do? There was no way she'd get back to Aramis without being seen by one of her other brothers. Groaning in frustration, she leaned against a tree, trying to see if there was a way she could get back without being seen.

No.

Porthos was on one side, d'Artagnan the other, and Athos-

Where was Athos?

"Ah, what have we got here?"

Annabelle's eyes couldn't have widened more. She turned around, coming face to face with Athos.

She held the meat in her hand as if her life depended on it, staring anxiously into the musketeer's eyes. He was looking right back at her, one hand casually on the hilt of his sword and his dark eyebrows raised.

She couldn't let him find Agnes and Henri, she just couldn't. If he took them to the Cardinal, there would be no doubt that they'd be dead before the next day.

Deciding there was nothing for it, the girl squeezed her eyes shut and ran for it, hoping to at least get as far as the bridge… but no. The musketeer had caught her before she had even managed to get past him.

"Let me _go,_ Athos!" she said, struggling in his strong grip.

"Don't be silly Belle," the musketeer said, hoisting the girl effortlessly into his arms. "Where is your brother?"

"Kidnapping me."

Athos rolled his eyes, giving the blonde a poke to her side. " _Aramis,_ Annabelle? Where is he?"

Annabelle glared at him, a defiant look on her face.

Athos sighed and leant forward, placing a kiss on the girl's forehead. "I do not like this, Belle. We should be working together here. You know that."

"You'll take them back to the Cardinal and they will be _dead_ before the sun rises tomorrow 'Thos, _please,_ " Annabelle said, tears welling in her eyes.

Athos set her on the ground again and kneeled down in front of her, holding her at arm's length. "Hey," he said, pushing a loose strand of blonde hair out of the distressed girl's face. "I know, which is why we are here. We want to help you."

Annabelle looked cautiously at him. "You do?"

"Of course. Did you really think we would come for Agnes and Henri and bring them back to the Cardinal only for him to do as he pleases to them? I thought you had more sense in you," he said with a smile and a wink, squeezing the girl's shoulder.

Annabelle let out a laugh before looking around at the sound of Porthos and d'Artagnan's voices.

They had found them.

Athos stood up and took his sister's hand in his, before walking towards Aramis and Agnes, who could just about be seen behind the wagon.

"Good afternoon," d'Artagnan said with a slight smile as the four of them reached their friend's hiding place.

Agnes quickly jumped up, standing in front of her son to protect him the best she could.

"Excuse us Madame," Athos said, his face expressionless… as always.

"I won't come back," Agnes said worriedly.

Aramis shook his head. "I'm not handing them over to the cardinal."

"Aramis," d'Artagnan said, "that baby is the heir to the throne."

"They could charge you with treason," Porthos said, an almost angry tone in his voice.

Annabelle looked up at Athos. "I thought you wanted to help?" she said quietly, feeling like they'd tricked her.

The musketeer looked down at her but said nothing, instead squeezing her hand.

"I made her a promise," Aramis told them in an almost challenging tone of voice. He had sworn to Agnes that nothing would happen to her or her baby. The two of them hadn't asked for this - Agnes had had no idea her late husband had been of royal blood – and the poor woman wanted nothing more than a life for herself and Henri. Aramis intended to give that to them. He remembered when his sister was just as small as that little boy, and if something similar had happened with her, he would have defended her until his last breath.

* * *

 _"Ren_ é _."_

 _Ren_ é _looked up from his book, and his eyes widened as he saw a familiar woman walk towards him, a bundle of blankets in her arms._

 _He put the object down and waited until she reached him, sitting on the grass in front of him._

 _Ren_ é _didn't even look at the woman, brown eyes fixed on the blankets._

 _"Here," she said, carefully handing them over to him._

 _The man took them, shifting them slightly in his arms, before moving one hand to gently pull the blankets back, revealing a tiny pink face._

 _A huge smile lit up his face, and he felt tears welling in his eyes. "Hello," he said quietly, brushing his fingers lightly over the baby's soft skin. Suddenly, he remembered something, and looked up at the woman._

 _"My mother," he said, "how is she?"  
_

 _The woman's face fell, and she looked down at the ground. "It... it was a difficult birth, Ren_ é _," she said, and the man felt his heart beat increase rapidly._

 _"And?" he prompted, not quite knowing if he really did want to hear the answer._

 _"And... she didn't make it. I am sorry."  
_

 _Ren_ é _stared at her, not quite believing what he had heard. His mother... was gone?  
_

 _"No," he breathed out, suddenly feeling salty tears cascade down from his eyes._

 _He squeezed them shut, and leaned forward, head bowed over his baby sister as he cried._

 _The woman, who had been a close friend of his mother and had watched Rene grow up into the young man he was now, silently cried her own tears. "I-I am sorry, Ren_ é _, r-really I am."_

 _Ren_ é _looked up, turning his head towards the woman. He blinked. "It is not your fault Aria," he said, voice full to the brim with grief._

 _He looked down at the baby girl, still asleep, covered in the blankets in his shaking hands._

 _"What is her name?" he asked sorrowfully._

 _"Your mother wanted you to name her," Aria said with a sad smile._

 _She did? Tears still clinging to his eyelashes and falling down his cheeks, Ren_ é _looked at her._

 _The baby stirred in her sleep, and one by one, her eyes opened, shining the brightest blue the man had ever seen. They were beautiful._ She _was beautiful._

 _"Belle," he said suddenly, leaning forward to kiss the baby's forehead as she looked up at him, her small hands wrapping around her big brother's much larger finger. "Annabelle."_

* * *

"Then we'd better help you," Athos said with a smile, and Annabelle released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, looking up at the musketeer with a bright grin.

"You didn't really think we'd take the baby, did you?" Porthos said, before looking at Annabelle, who was partially hidden behind Athos. "Did you?" And he reached out, grabbing the girl and pulling her towards him. She shrugged, giggling as the musketeer peppered ticklish kisses on her neck.

Athos smiled. "If you'd have told us what we were doing, we might have been able to plan this properly."

Aramis grimaced. "Yes, sorry."

"No, no," the older musketeer said, "let's keep it suicidal."

Annabelle smiled as she was let go by Porthos, and immediately sat down next to Henri, watching as he wrapped his tiny fingers around her hand and gurgled happily.

And to think that this boy would probably never know about his true heritage…

"Things just got complicated. Vincent."

The teenager looked up and noticed men riding towards the encampment.

The musketeers and Agnes ducked down as they galloped past the wagon, Aramis grabbing onto his sister and making sure she was well hidden behind him.

These men were here the baby, and from the looks of things, they weren't going to leave without him.

* * *

 **So... we don't really know much about Aramis' parents. Correct me if I'm wrong of course! But I decided to take things in my own hands and make it so that Aramis and Annabelle's mother died while giving birth to her. I'm not sure about their father. Let's say he was still with her. I hope this doesn't bother you guys... I'd hate it if it did XD**

 **But anyways, thanks so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed! The next chapter** _ **should**_ **come quick as it's one of my favourite episodes ;)**

 **Please review and tell me what you think! ~ Gre3nleaf**


	7. A Rebellious Woman

"You think I poisoned him?" Fleur asked, a look of absolute disbelief on her face.

"That's the most stupid thing I've heard, even by musketeer standard," Constance spoke up.

"Let her talk, please," d'Artagnan said.

Annabelle looked around the table, where she, the musketeers, d'Artagnan, Constance and Fleur were sat. The Comtesse de Laroque's trial had just ended, though not entirely on good terms, if you were to count anyone but the musketeers' opinions…

The Cardinal had been poisoned, but by who or what no one knew just yet. Annabelle didn't quite understand why her brothers thought Fleur had done it, but she trusted their judgment. If they had reason to believe she did it, then so did she.

"Tell us the truth," Porthos said.

"I didn't hurt him! I didn't do anything, I swear it," the girl said, her face looking serious. She turned to Constance, and suddenly a sad expression appeared on her fair features. "I have to go. My father is waiting." She stood up and walked a way off before stopping and turning slightly. "You know I am to be married? He's a forty-year old widower with a butcher's stall in Montmartre. I'm told he's a very good catch." And the young girl looked down again, turning to walk out of the Garrison.

Constance glanced at the musketeers, a look of disapproval plastered on her face, before following after her.

The men and girl stayed silent for a moment, each thinking to themselves. They really did not have any other idea who else the culprit could be. They hadn't wanted to accuse Fleur of poisoning the Cardinal - after all, if it had been her, they probably would have thanked her! - but as musketeers it was their duty to find out who wanted him murdered - (they couldn't really think of anyone who _didn't_ want him murdered, but that was besides the point).

"I'm gonna get something to eat," Porthos said, sighing heavily, and d'Artagnan stood up.

"I will come with you; all this trial business is making me hungry," the Gascon agreed, and Porthos laughed before the two walked off to find Serge.

"Will you ever force _me_ to marry someone I don't know?" Annabelle asked as she leaned against Athos' – who was sat on the table, feet resting on the wooden bench – leg with a sigh.

Aramis turned to his sister with a frown. "No, I will not."

Annabelle nodded, but a thoughtful expression was still on her face. "Why is Fleur's father forcing _her_ to marry?"

Aramis sighed, taking his sister's hands in his. "He believes that having a husband would be good for her."

"How can it be good for her if she does not want it?"

"Unfortunately, Fleur is not at an age where she can decide how her future will be shaped. She must listen to her father."

Annabelle's eyebrows furrowed at that, and she looked at her brother. "What about me? I do not have a father to listen to."

"You have a brother," Aramis said with a raise of his eyebrow. "Several, in fact, who I am sure by now you have realized are your guardians. And you cannot forget Treville, who is _like_ a father to you."

"But... does that still mean you have to shape _my_ future?" the teenager asked.

Aramis shook his head and squeezed his sister's hands. "No. I may be in charge of you, but I will never tell you how to live your life, or what to do with it. You only live once, I say. If you want to grow up and be a lady, you grow up and be a lady. If you want to grow up and be a musketeer, you grow up and be a musketeer. Your life is your life, Belle - it is not mine to do with as I will."

Annabelle grinned, jumping forward and hugging Aramis around his neck. "I have the best big brother," she said into his ear, and the musketeer chuckled.

"And don't you forget it!" he said, placing a kiss on the girl's cheek before looking up at Athos, who was smiling fondly at the siblings.

Annabelle smiled back, but her thoughts quickly wandered elsewhere. "Why didn't Fleur's father want her to have an education, though?"

"It is not proper for a lady of the lower-class to have an education," Athos told her. "Fleur's father wanted her to be like every other young woman and learn how to sew and cook, among other things."

"I don't think she wanted that," Annabelle said.

"No," Athos agreed, "but as Aramis has said, it was not her decision to make."

Annabelle nodded, frowning. "How has Ninon done something wrong?" she asked. The question had been swirling around in her mind ever since the Comtesse had been arrested, and she didn't quite understand the reasons behind it. She had met Ninon, and from what she could see, the woman was a well-respected and kind person who would never dream of doing anything to harm others.

Aramis and Athos shared a quick glance, before the older musketeer spoke up. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well… I guess I just do not really understand how giving girls an education is a bad thing."

"Some people think it is," Athos said.

"Like the King?"

"Like the King."

"Anne- I mean, the _Queen_ doesn't think so."

"No," Athos said, moving to sit himself down on the bench beside Annabelle, who leaned back against his chest, "perhaps not. But you must remember that the Comtesse has been trialled for different crimes that she has apparently committed, not because she has given some young women an education."

"What crimes?" the girl asked, and Aramis couldn't help but melt at the innocent expression on his baby sister's face as she asked that question. In all honesty, he had wanted to grab that girl and carry her out of the room when Madame de la Chapelle – or whoever she was – started talking about what Ninon had supposedly done to her. Annabelle was thirteen years old, and did not need to hear those things. Perhaps he was being over-protective, but he did not care. His sister was his everything and he would not have her grow up faster than she needed to.

"It does not matter what crimes," Athos said, feeling the exact same way as the younger musketeer. "All that matters is that I do not believe the Comtesse did what those people have accused her of, and I swear I will find a way to get her out of this."

"And me," the teenager said, lifting her head and looking up at Athos, who leaned down to kiss her forehead with a smile.

"And you, my Belle."

* * *

"Where are you going?"

Aramis turned, a smile quickly appearing on his face. "Good morning little one," he said. The girl had clearly heard him moving about the room – though he had tried his best to stay quiet – and had bolted upright in bed, eyes still half-closed and hair in a tangled mess. "I am going to the mortuary. We need to get Father Sastini's bag to give back to him. It's alright, you can stay in bed - Treville has some work to do in the Garrison for the morning and so he won't be too far off."

"I want to come," Annabelle said. She pushed back the covers and swung her legs over the bed, immediately moving to grab her clothes and start changing.

"To the mortuary? You want to be around dead people?" the musketeer asked with a raised eyebrow.

Annabelle shrugged. "It's interesting. I don't mind it."

Aramis chuckled. "Alright, you can come. But if you feel like getting sick, do not come crying to me."

Annabelle grinned before grabbing her jacket and skipping out of the room. "I won't!" she called over her shoulder.

* * *

"I feel sick."

Porthos let out a booming laugh at Annabelle's quiet comment and placed an arm around her shoulder, drawing her close to him.

"Did you ever find out how he died?" Athos asked the diener, who was stood by the corpse of the man the musketeer had ran after yesterday when he had stolen Father Sastini's bag. He hadn't been able to catch him, but had noticed him and the bag in the mortuary the other night when he had been with Ninon, and told the Father that he would return it to him as soon as possible.

"Some sort of apoplexy," the man said. "He was having a drink at an inn nearby. One moment he was laughing and joking, and the next he convulsed and fell down dead on the spot."

Annabelle frowned. "Just like the Cardinal…" she thought out loud, but the musketeers around her nodded.

"Sastini," Athos said, and immediately removed the Father's bag that he had swung over his shoulder, setting it on the ground and quickly rummaging through what was inside.

Annabelle watched wide-eyed as the musketeer and d'Artagnan continued looking through the bag. She walked over to where Aramis and Porthos were standing over the dead man, and grimaced.

"Open his mouth," Aramis said to Porthos, who quickly gained a disgusted expression.

"You open his mouth," he countered back.

Aramis sighed, but leaned down, opening the corpse's mouth. He quickly drew back and made a sound of absolute revulsion. "He stinks!"

"Well, he's dead," Porthos said.

"Not like that," Aramis told him, "he's… there's something bitter on his tongue."

Porthos furrowed his brows but sniffed the man all the same, stepping back and coughing violently. "Either this man had disgusting eating habits or something's badly wrong."

Annabelle frowned, walking over to Athos and d'Artagnan. "What are these?" she asked, picking up a letter, before quickly dropping it again, looking up at d'Artagnan. "And why is it wet?"

Aramis turned to her, and a look of realization dawned on his face. "I know that smell," he said. "It was on the Cardinal's breath."

"Poison," Athos said, "wash your hands. Everything's soaked in it."

Annabelle's eyes widened and she looked down at her hands, rubbing her fingers together and feeling the wetness of the poison.

"This is where it came from," Athos said, holding up a small, empty vial he had found at the bottom of the bag.

"He must have drunk half the bottle before he realized it wasn't alcohol. The rest spilled in the bag," Porthos said as Athos stood up. The musketeer grabbed Annabelle's arm and lead her towards a small bowl full of water in a corner of the mortuary, plunging his hands in and washing away the poison. Annabelle did the same, rolling her eyes when Athos stuck them back in again himself once she had taken them out, not wanting to risk even a small bit of the poison staying on his sister's hands.

"I'm quite capable, you know, 'Thos," she said.

"Mhm," the musketeer mumbled, not saying anything more.

"Sastini's still at the abbey," d'Artagnan said, shaking his hands dry. The musketeers looked at each other.

"The Cardinal's still alive," Athos said, grabbing Annabelle's hand and rushing out of the mortuary, the others following close behind. If the Father had attempted once already to kill that man, then there was no doubt he would try again.

"Just so you're clear, this is the Cardinal we're talking about!" the girl shouted as she ran behind Athos.

"Exactly!" Porthos called back. "Why are we running?"

* * *

 **So sorry for the long wait, but I've just started my final year in school, and so I have a lot of preparing for exams to do… revision will be starting soon as I want to get the best grades I can :)**

 **But anyhow, I hope you enjoyed this!**

 **I didn't know what the name for someone who worked in a mortuary was, so I googled it and it came up with 'diener'... does that sound right? :P**

 **Please review! ~ Gre3nleaf**


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